The Deceiver
by GreyBlood
Summary: Johan mysteriously dissapeired during a battle. No body was found. Years later he turned up as a general for the Horde's army. What could have possibly happened, in the time he was gone, to convert someone who had seen Elyon in the flesh into the enemy?
1. Prologue

Thomas Hunter, the fearless leader of the Forest Guard and Dreamer extraordinaire, protects the forests from the evil that is the Horde army. With their diseased minds and flaking skin, their purpose is to serve Teeleh, the largest of the mythical black bats and idolized by the Horde, and to destroy the healing waters of the green lakes, hidden at the center of the seven forests. The forests are scattered among the world, with nothing but desert in between. But this story isn't about Thomas. It is about Johan, his wife Rachelle's brother.

Johan is younger than Rachelle by only a few years and had never thought of leaving her side. But something would soon change the way he felt about the life he was living and what role, if any, their creator Elyon played in it.


	2. Chapter 1  The Lake

Johan of Middle walks silently along the water's edge. It's sunset and the remaining light glistens on the water beside him. The rest of the village dances and sings their praise to Elyon, the creator. He smirks to himself, thinking of when he used to be as foolish as those he sees. Believing that the creator of the Great Romance would come back to save them from the Horde. For twelve years he has waited and yet, no sign of the little boy Elyon was known to show himself as. Johan is shaken from his own thoughts as he hears someone approaching him from behind. With the quickness of one trained by the Forest Guard he whips around and grabs his stalker by the wrists.

"Almost had you that time!" exclaims Jessamine, Johan's betrothed.

"Almost being the key word my dear" Johan says with a smile.

Jess had grown up in Southern, one of the other seven Forests, and had traveled to Middle with her parents. She wasn't much younger than Johan and had striking features. With her sand-colored hair, deep blue eyes, and a light and quick body, she used to be surrounded by men as a teenager. But after a band of amateur Scabs, what the Forest people call the Horde, burned down her house, she was left with a scar running up her left leg. The fire had killed her dad and it was Johan who saved Jess and her mother. He also tracked and killed the band as they were returning to the desert. She was eternally grateful and chose him over all others. Johan loved her but only one thing about Jess kept him from marrying her.

"So what are you doing way out here?" Jess asked him. "The celebration has begun on the opposite side of the lake! We should be over there rejoicing with the rest!"

Jessamine had a great personality, similar to Johan's in fact. Something was always troubling her, different every time, and that's what Johan liked about her. They could talk for hours on end about nothing in particular, as long as it was negatively about something. But ever since the fire, she believed Johan was sent by Elyon to save her and she always perked up at these celebrations. So every night, Johan had to put on a smile and dance like a buffoon, just to please her. He didn't mind doing it for Jess; he just resented praising someone he knew wasn't there.

Johan looked across the lake. With lit torches every few yards, he could clearly see the almost three-hundred people dancing by the pier, and even more in small groups around the lake's edge. He could also hear the music, being played on the handmade instruments, bouncing off the water.

"Why don't we go for a swim instead?" Johan asked.

"Because it's freezing! That's why!" Jess replied.

He smiled. There's the complaining he was waiting for.

"Come on! Don't be a child! Besides, I'm not in the mood for dancing tonight."

"Fine. If you want to act this way, I'll go dance with someone else." she retorted.

With a sly grin plastered on her face, she spun on the spot and started back down the beach toward the music, swaying her hips tauntingly to the beat. Johan smiled at the idea that had just popped into his head and started to run silently after her. As he caught up, he grabbed her around the waist with one arm and threw her up onto one shoulder. With his other hand he took his tunic off and threw it to the sand.

"Stop Johan!" she cried, knowing what he was about to do.

With Jess fussing trying to release herself, Johan started to walk toward the lake. Both were laughing hysterically by the time the cool, refreshing water was waist deep and Johan threw her into it. She came up behind Johan silently and gracefully. She wrapped both arms around his neck and dragged him under. They came up laughing, sputtering, and trying to breathe all at the same time.

"Got you that time!" Jess exclaimed, letting her captive free.

"That's because I let you" he replied.

"You always have to be the tough guy, don't you?" she asked seductively.

"Only when you're not around" he said as he leaned in for a kiss.

Suddenly a black figure flew past and Johan jerked his head up to see what it was.

"What are you looking at, love? I didn't see anything." she asks, a little disappointed that the moment was lost.

"You mean you didn't just see that black blur shoot past us not four yards away?" he asked, confused on how she could miss something so obvious.

"I have no idea what you saw, but I didn't see anything. Unless you're making up stories as an excuse to not kiss me" Jess said teasingly as she turned away, knowing the exact reaction she was about to get.

"Why would I miss an opportunity to show my love for a creature as beautiful as you?" he asked, wading toward her.

He hugs her around the waist and kisses her cheek, both listening to the music playing. Jess knew Johan had lost his faith in Elyon; that's why she tried so hard to make him to see him the way she did. But even though he wouldn't admit it, Johan was a dedicated believer in the Great Romance, the rules of love instituted by Elyon himself. Jess just couldn't understand how someone who claims to have seen Elyon in the flesh could reject him so easily. She feels Johan jerk his head skyward, as if he sees another "blur" as he described it. Then Jess feels something wrap around her foot. And as she's ready to scream, she's pulled under.


	3. Chapter 2  The Winter Campaign

"Jess! Jessamine! Where are you?"

Johan had just resurfaced for the fifth time. He had spent fifteen minutes searching already and wasn't about to stop.

When he had looked up at the mysterious black object flying above them for the second time, and Jess had been sucked down right in front of him, he had felt scared for the first time in years.

Now, with several minutes passing by faster than should be possible, he was becoming more angry than scared. Angry that whoever, or whatever, took his Jessamine from him could do something like that. He intended to exert his feelings on some Horde heads, but first he had to make sure Jess wasn't still in the lake.

After a night of searching through the lake and surrounding forest, Johan was exhausted. But he wasn't about ready to give up. Johan thought about telling people what happened, but they would just think he'd gone mad.

"_What were those things anyway?"_ he thought to himself as he sat down on the shore, looking out onto the water. The sun was nearly up and the waves were reflecting the light. _They couldn't have been birds, way too large. And what do I tell her mother? She'll be worried sick…_

Just then a figure stepped up beside him. When he looked up to see who it was, the sun poked itself up over the treetops and got to his eyes. From what he saw, it was a woman. With hope rising in his chest he stood up immediately, expecting to see Jessamine standing in front of him. Unfortunately, it was only his sister, Rachelle.

"What are you so jumpy about this early huh?" Rachelle asks quizzically "You look like you've seen a shataiki."

He stood there silently; contemplating what she had just said. Could it be? Could the black beasts really have been what he saw last night? Of course Rachelle was only using it as generally as any of the other Forest Dwellers would, but it was still something to consider.

"Nothing." he lied. "Just expecting someone I guess."

"Well I'm going to bathe and then start training for the Winter Campaign. You coming?"

"I'll come train with you but I've already bathed this morning." Johan replied.

The Winter Campaign was when the bulk of the Forest Guard went out to the other six forests to help escort the thousands of forest dwellers to the Middle Forest for the annual Gathering. The Gathering was the day when every follower of Elyon came together to worship him. The dangerous part was getting everyone safely from their forest to Middle because they had to cross mile after mile of dessert. This was where the Forest Dwellers were at their most vulnerable to be attacked by the Horde because they didn't have the cover they usually had at home. The Horde was at their best while in the desert, fighting on their own turf, which complicated things further.

"Suit yourself," she said as she started for the glistening, green water.

By the end of the day, Johan was almost positive the shataiki had taken Jessamine away. He didn't know how because not one of the demon bats would dare go near Elyon's cleansing lakes, but he knew it was their doing. Now all he needed to do was figure out how to get her back. For now, she was his main priority. But until he was able to create a plan, he would work on his fighting skills for the upcoming battle that was sure to happen.

Little did Johan know that he would soon be closer to the black bats than he ever wanted to be.


	4. Chapter 3  The Desert

"_OK, so far, so good."_Johan thought to himself.

He and about forty other Forest Guard soldiers had safely made it to the Eastern Forest. He had decided that it would be distressing to go to the Southern Forest, where he was scheduled to go, so Thomas had reassigned him. Johan knew, of course, the Horde wouldn't strike until they had the Forest Dwellers and started going back to Middle. There was no question of whether or not they would strike; any chance of killing a great number of Elyon's followers, they took.

Now they were in the city, refreshing their horses and stocking up for the trip back. It took about a day and a half to get between the two forests with scheduled resting and bathing stops. They have to bathe every day, give or take a few hours, before the disease starts to engulf them, body and mind. If needed, they could be back at Middle in a day. Scab horses didn't have the speed and stamina that the Forest Dweller's horses had, but they were the color of the desert sand, and blended in with the many rises and dunes. They were perfect for ambushes.

The Guard had stayed in Eastern for a day now, preparing everyone for the journey ahead, and were doing one last headcount before setting off.

"Johan, you're on first watch. Take five other men and start out." said William, one of Thomas' most trusted lieutenants.

"Huh? Oh yes." Johan fumbled out.

The truth was that Johan wasn't totally focused on what William was saying. He was still thinking about how the black bats could've taken Jessamine without touching the lake. Surely they would perish if something as pure as the lakes were ever to touch them.

Johan turned his horse toward the men who were lined up and ready for battle.

"Who among you wishes to follow me on first watch?" he asked them.

Five urged their mounts forward. Three were men and two women, none that he knew.

"Let's ride!" Johan exclaimed as he turned toward the desert and heeled his horse into action.

After about a half hour of hard riding, the area seemed to be clear. Johan himself wasn't the best scout, but he got by. The five of them had spread out to cover more of a distance and communicated with mirrors Thomas had fashioned for them. Johan stopped atop a large sand dune and took in his surroundings. Just as he was about to start down the dune, he caught sight of a mirror flash to his left. One flash; that meant one hundred Horde. They could handle that with the combined efforts of the Middle and Eastern Guard easily. Then another flash to the right. One hundred more? That would be a little tougher but not by much. Johan was confident they would defeat them easily enough. Then he looked straight ahead of him. A gasp escaped his lips. Not just a few miles ahead were at least a hundred more Horde. Now this would be a challenge. Three hundred against nearly one hundred Guard. The bulk of the Eastern Guard had gone to the Far Northern Forest to help the Dwellers there get to Middle safely for they had the farthest to travel. He headed down the side of the dune at a full sprint. He and the other scouts needed to meet up and warn William about the battle they were in for.

Deciding that three hundred was too great a number to risk the lives of the civilians, William ordered twenty Guard to stay back in Eastern with the villagers. Then they headed out into the dessert, ready for a fight. Of course, the Guard's horses were much faster than the Scab's so, by the time they reached the Horde's army, they were at about the same place where Johan and the rest of the scouting party had stopped.

The Horde armies had come together to form a single force and now was stretched along the western horizon. They obviously thought that, in the mid-afternoon sun, they hadn't been spotted and planed to surround the forest, lying in wait. Well, the element of surprise was added to the Guard's list of advantages.

"_This should be interesting_" Johan thought. _"Maybe these filthy beasts know where Jess is."_

The thought hadn't occurred to him before, and had just placed itself in his mind, but it seemed so obvious now that he thought about it.

"_Why wouldn't they know where she is? Aren't these vermin the closest thing to shataiki? Do they even see the bats? Why did I see them? They haven't been seen since the Great Deception."_

These thoughts racked Johan's brain, but he soon realized that now wasn't the time to ponder them. Now was the time to kill some Scabs. Yes, that was a pleasant thought. Johan was in his element during a battle; the swing of his blade feeling so natural to him.

As the opposing sides crashed into each other, the sound of blades crashing and bodies thudding to the sand rang through the valley in which the battle was taking place. With large dunes rising to the north and south, there was only one way to go…forward, through the enemy.

Johan was called a prodigy by Thomas. Back in the first year of living in the Middle Forest was a time of learning and adjusting to the new lifestyle. Tom and Johan had searched for the rocks that, when heated, oozed the telltale ore that created bronze. Once the swords were made, it didn't take Johan long to master the art. He could kill more Scabs in a battle than most in the Guard, but Jess was on his mind, hindering his performance.

Ducking, and swinging his sword, Johan dodged a sickle and beheaded his attacker. He parried a swing, and then stabbed, killing another Scab instantly. Yes, this was indeed his element. One after the other, the Horde army fell, feeling the wrath of the Guard's strength. Johan wasn't the kind of fighter who watched his comrade's backs; he was more of a take charge kind of fighter. He charged through the front lines, wielding his sword as an expert would. With each thrust, a Scab died, was thrown off his horse, and landed on the ground in a pool of his own blood.

About an hour of the Guard's continuous domination passed and most of the Horde lay slain across the desert floor. Few of the Guard had been badly hurt, and only a handful had been unlucky enough to have their back turned at the wrong time. Their souls would be celebrated that night at the celebration. They would rest and regroup and head back to Middle the next day.

Johan was now searching the horizon for any Scabs that might have escaped the carnage of his blade. In the waning light, it was probably a futile attempt, but for some reason he wanted to be sure. He was just about to give up and join the others on the ride back to Eastern when a flicker of movement caught his eye. As he looked harder, he saw a group of about three or four riders, sprinting into the setting sun.

"_What if they know where she is…?"_The thought was louder than ever, as if someone was speaking it into his ear. Without a second thought crossing his mind, he started riding after the band.


	5. Chapter 4 The Disease

Johan hadn't thought this plan all the way through, and now he was paying the price. The band of Horde soldiers was going somewhere, but it seemed like it was taking forever. They stopped frequently to rest, probably the disease hurting their joints. Johan had bathed when he went back to Eastern to tell William of the small army; small compared to the rest of the Horde anyway. He had expected to win the battle, and bathe again that night. But, with his newly hatched plan, he had only brought one of the sacks that were mandatory for every member of the Guard, containing only a few gallons of lake water.

Now, as Johan watched the band taking another rest, he was getting more and more concerned about the disease. He had been following them for almost a day now and had used about half a gallon an hour ago when he started to ache.

From his close observations over the past twenty-four hours, he had confirmed that there were four members of the group. Three men, one woman. The largest of the men seemed to be in charge, though he wasn't too bright. The woman seemed to be in charge of the stops. To Johan, she appeared to be the most tolerant of the disease out of the four, which made sense that they stopped when she was tired. The other two men looked to be just ordinary soldiers put on the front lines. The leader and the woman were probably higher ranked officers, continually bickering with each other

During the night, the group had stopped after they gained a few miles from the stench of rotting Horde flesh. Johan decided to rest then as well, perching himself on a dune not far from them. .

Now, as he figured from the continual westward course, they were headed somewhere in particular. Hopefully it was a Horde camp.

After two more days of traveling in the blazing hot sun, Johan was out of water. Between bathing, drinking, and giving it to his horse, the water went quickly. His horse was about ready to drop; for good. He didn't think it would take this long for them to reach their camp but he had overestimated how much the scabbing disease actually hindered the Horde's effectiveness. Off and on, the woman had sent one of the two lower-ranking men to scout ahead. They would meet up with him later on in the day and stop there for the night. They obviously didn't think anyone was following them because they never looked back.

_Unless they want me to follow them._

The thought was surely absurd. These dirty creatures wouldn't know if an army was following them, let alone a single, trained warrior! Still, it was a possibility. Nevertheless Johan continued following the band, always staying down-wind. Every Forest Guard soldier knew the stench of Horde flesh, the result of their disease. But there had been rumors that, to a Scab, the Guard smelled just as bad.

At around noon, Johan started to feel the affects of the disease. His skin started to dry up, and then crack. His joints tightened up and ached. His mind started to get hazy, his thinking becoming less sharp. Johan knew that if he didn't get to a lake soon, he would become a Scab completely.

_What's so bad about becoming Horde anyways?_

Now Johan _knew_ the disease was affecting his thinking. But still, he didn't see the big deal anymore.

"_Focus on the mission_," his conscious warned him.

As he looked up, Johan saw that the group had stopped, meeting up again with one of the two scouts. Except this time, there was another man with him.

"_This is either very good or very bad," _he thought.

Another scout probably meant that they were near a camp. But it could also mean there was another army close by. Either was a possibility.

After an hour or so, the band continued to ride west, sending the fresher of the two scouts on ahead once again.

Just as the sun was setting on the fourth day, Johan had to leave his horse and follow the band on foot. This was much more effort on his part but he didn't want to be sitting on the horse when it died. So he continued west, and, for the first time, lost sight of the group.

Eventually, the disease was so unbearable that he threw himself down on the sand and fell asleep.

He awoke the next morning to the burning of his own, rotten skin.


	6. Chapter 5 The City

The darkness of night had fallen over the desert. The sand was still hot from the baking sun. When Johan awoke, the first thought that ran through his mind was that he was dying. He was lying on the ground, dying. He propped himself up on his elbows and immediately fell back down. What had happened to him? As he looked himself over, Johan saw that the skin on his arms and legs was grey and flaking. The disease had entirely engulfed him. It wasn't so bad now that he thought about it. He had expected much worse.

What was he doing stranded in the desert? Oh yea. He was following the band of Horde soldiers. What was the point? Jessamine wasn't worth the ground he walked on! Much too worthless to be following a few Scabs in nothing but a blind desire over. Hopefully they were his ticket to civilization. On that note he continued west, for his sake, not that useless witch.

It was about mid day when the city broke over the horizon. At first, Johan suspected it was a mirage, glistening in the heat waves coming off the sand. But as he got closer, he could see the mud-packed huts. After almost five days of enduring the deserts challenges, he'd made it to his destination. But there was a problem; he was dressed like a Guard soldier. After shedding his leather armor, he was left with his green tunic and brown pants. He stripped off the tunic, a painful process sending flakes of skin in all directions and that caused his joints to burn. He had to stop moving so quickly. Looking himself over, he saw the extent of the disease.

"_Doesn't look too bad,"_ he observed.

He looked like the enemy. But they were no longer the enemy to him. He needed their help. And he was one of them now.

As he approached the camp, he noticed several things within a single glance. The wall constructed of sand that surrounded the camp told him it wasn't a mobile one used by the army. The differences? The army slept in tents that could be packed up in less than ten minutes each and loaded onto a horse's saddle. These houses were constructed from mud and whatever pieces of wood found in the desert; cube in shape. The compound itself was circular with a large wooden building in the center. Johan recognized this building. It looked just like the Thrall he'd lived near as a child! The Horde had replicated it with stunning accuracy. The only difference was that this one has been build out of dead, black trees while the original was created using the glowing green bark from the colored forest.

"_Is this where they serve the serpent devil of theirs?"_ Johan wondered as he got closer to the wall.

If so, this is where he would find the dark priest. The priest would know where the demon bats had taken Jessamine. Was he still on his quest? Should he follow her trail into the pit of hell? He was here wasn't he? Probably the only thing to do at this point. He walked around the perimeter of the wall to the north side. When he found the one of two gates, he walked into the town. Several of the villagers eyed him skeptically, but didn't take too much interested in their visitor. Johan walked south along the main street that spilt the town in two. The street went from the gate, around the Thrall, and down to the other gate. Dozens of huts littered the roadside, buzzing with activity. Johan wasn't too concerned about his appearance. He looked just like everyone else.

As he walked down the road, Johan couldn't help but notice how…human these people looked. For the majority of his life, he had heard stories of how cruel and terrible the Horde was. But now, as he walked through one of their villages, they didn't look vicious whatsoever.

Soon he was at the center of the circle. As he looked up, Johan took in the details of the Thrall. The large wooden door had intricate designs carved into its surface. On each side of the many steps leading to the doors, there where large, wooden statues of the winged serpent. The four red eyes seemed to look right through him.

It was then, looking up at the statue on the right, that Johan sensed the ambush. Normally he would have spun around, sword at hand, and faced his attackers. But with his body at the mercy of the disease, he was a few moments too slow. He first felt the warm blood, oozing down his neck; then the pain from the blow. And then, falling in the late afternoon sun, Johan lost consciousness.


	7. Chapter 6 The Captive

Johan awoke to a distant thudding.

_"Where am I?"_ he thought.

His head was throbbing immensely. With each heartbeat, a drum sounded in his ear. Then his memory came flooding back. He was struck and knocked out by some unknown attacker. He now lay on the dirt floor of a dark room. It smelled of dirt and mold, probably some underground chamber. It was too dark for him to see any details though. The thudding he had heard came from the roof above him, probably someone pacing from the sound of it. His hands were bound to his legs behind his back and he realized that his bindings were cutting into in flesh. All of this pain was made worse by the disease.  
Then the thudding stopped. Someone else walked into the room. The screeching of chairs alerted Johan that his captors were above him, ready to stay there for a while.

The dark priest was meeting with the general of the particular band of serpent warriors. Most of the time he didn't allow women to become part of his personal army, but Sheila was the single exception. She could take down ten men in half the time it took the other soldiers. But of course, that was when she was up against her own kind. Against a single albino, she would only last a few seconds longer than most. This wasn't uncommon; the Horde was no match for the Forest Guard and their deluded magic. But he had his own magic, didn't he? He certainly did.

A runner had reported to his servant boy, who once again disturbed him during his séance. He was going to have to teach that runt some discipline later; maybe some new tricks would scare the puke into obeying.

Back to the task at hand. He could hear Sheila pacing as he approached the door to the Thrall's study. Not his private study, just where meetings could be held. As he opened the door, she stopped and turned towards him. Her battle scars could be seen on her arms and legs. The fact that she was so exposed made the priest writhe in disgust. She was dressed in the Horde's customary battle armor, worn by the soldiers. She wasn't the ugliest of the Horde, but the priest never really did like the filth passed off as women. Sheila was tall for a girl of eighteen. She had blonde, shoulder length hair and light grey eyes. Well, every member of the Horde had grey eyes so they didn't really define her.

The priest had sent Sheila to fight with the army at the Eastern Forest for reasons unknown to her. She followed his orders and successfully completed the task he had in mind. Now she was here, awaiting her next task and possibly some insight to the seemingly pointless mission.

"Get changed," he said, pointing to the wooden truck in the corner of the room.

He couldn't stand to look at her in the manner she was in. She donned a black, hooded cloak, similar to his. She doesn't bother to raise the hood to obscure her face in the dim candle-light, which bothers him slightly.

"I assume you're wondering why you were sent into battle?" The direct question had caught Sheila off guard and it took her a moment to reply.

"If you wish to tell me, I wouldn't mind."

"You followed my instructions, correct?"

"Yes. We sent one of those puny runners to circle around and make sure the albino was still following us. He would meet up with us later in the day and report. If you don't mind me asking, what's so special about this one? Why did we bring him here?"

The wench was stepping out of line by asking the question. This irritated him greatly but the only sign of his distaste with her was the scowl permanently plastered on his face.

His master had revealed to him the importance of the man currently being held in the make-shift dungeon. He himself didn't understand the significance of the man but wouldn't question Teeleh. He was simply a priest, born into the welcoming darkness of the serpent.

He ponders what should be revealed to Sheila, and then dismisses the thought. She won't believe the explanation but he tells her anyway.

"Well, my dear, I am simply a pawn in The Dark Lord's game. I simply follow the path he leads me to."

Sheila stares back blankly; unimpressed with the answer she's been given.

She was born in one of the dreaded forests. She used to be an albino girl named Clare. She was taken from her parents by his serpent warriors when she was a mere four years old and brought to him. On such an occasion, he would normally have sacrificed her to his Dark Lord in a tortuous way. He has been spending years trying to find a remedy that would burn the albino flesh in a similar way that the lakes' water burned Horde's. But she was different from the other tributes. Most girls her age would tremble at the sight of him; but not Sheila. She stared back at him with a fire burning in her eyes. Not fear, but hate illuminated her clear blue eyes. For this sole reason, he kept her alive…barely. She was turned Horde and tortured for several months, wiping away any memory of her past. She now remembers nothing but growing up in the Thrall. He was going to teach her the black magic given to him by the Dark Lord, but she possessed no talent for it. Now she refuses to serve anyone or anything but him; and he enjoys her allegiance.

"So what are we going to do with it?"

Good question.

"Well then, we'll just have to go find out won't we," he says with sly grin creeping at the corners of his mouth. They shall have some fun with this.

Johan could almost clearly make out the conversation occurring ten feet above him. He heard every word. The way they tricked him into coming here. The way they talked about him as if he was nothing more than dirt. The way they were throwing around ideas about how to kill him on their way out of the room. All of these things enraged Johan to the point where he found himself ripping at the cords that bound him. Blood collected in a small pool behind his back where his wrists were sliced and by his ankles. He wasn't expecting what happened when the door swung open. As the woman he'd been stalking all week entered with a torch, he saw the illuminated silhouette of the torture devises strewn around the room. Blades, whips, machines with straps to secure bodies to, and other objects with purposes he couldn't place. It made him sick to think about what has gone on in this room in the past; what is going to happen to him.

Behind the girl an elderly man stepped in, hood obscuring his face. Johan could tell he was old by the way he walked. He was excellent at reading people. Could detect a limp half a mile away. But none of this, any of the things he'd observed since they walked in, concerned him. Right now, he was focused on the vial of purple liquid the man was pulling from his robe.


End file.
